


Synonymous

by fructoselollipop



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructoselollipop/pseuds/fructoselollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>regionsofkindness prompted: Melinda/Phil, in the immediate aftermath of New York, she thinks him dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synonymous

She heads straight for the roof, because she needs to fly.

She hasn’t taken a bird up in years, not since the aftermath of Bahrain. She keeps her skills sharp in simulations in case she needs to escape, but she’s never had any intention to pilot again. That would mean she’s back in the field and she’ll fight that appointment tooth and nail every time.

This is different.

When the news comes down, the co-workers that reside in her block of cubicles hold a respectful moment of silence, then go about their business. Field agents die all the time. Only when someone is really important is it ever called attention to. To the rest of the administration staff, Coulson was mostly a name. Sort of a legend. Fury’s golden boy, liason to Tony Stark, one of the most competent field agents ever to come through the ranks.

But, to Melinda May, he was so much more than that. To Melinda May, flying and Phil Coulson are synonymous.

 

_He was the one that convinced her to take the class. She couldn’t decide between on an op-spec training course. Language seemed like the obvious choice, since she was already bilingual, but she hated being undercover and loathed even more the idea of graduating the Operations program to be a glorified translator. Weapons specialization was a slightly better option, but she preferred to utilize her extensive pre-SHIELD martial arts training._

_“What about piloting?” Phil suggested, skimming through the list of courses. It was an idle suggestion._

_That was one option she’d never considered, but once she thought on it, she realized the idea had merit. Maybe it was the idea of having that kind of power in her hands. Maybe it was the rather romantic notion of freedom that she normally didn’t ascribe to calling to her. Or maybe it was just because that he suggested it that made it sound appealing. Whatever it was, that’s the moment she made her decision._

_“When I get my certification, I’ll take you up.”_

_Phil looked surprised. Later, May realized that she had said that a good fifteen minutes later. Nevertheless he smiled. “It’s a date.”_

 

It’s barely early evening, but the sky is dark from the storm clouds rolling in. The breeze already smells like rain.

She turns her face up toward the deepening dark and takes one deep breath, then another. _In and out._

It’s not her fault, she’s not so childish that she would blame herself. But, just the same, she should have been there. She might have been, too, if she hadn’t insisted on a desk job. If she was only able to cope better after Bahrain, this might not have happened. She could have been with him, could have protected him. He was always getting into trouble without her. He got into trouble _with_ her too, come to it.

He was there for her after it happened, sifting through the ashes of who she used to be, looking for enough pieces to cobble together a whole person. But there wasn’t enough left.

 

_In one last desperate attempt to reconnect to her old self, she stole a two-man fighter from the SHIELD hangar at the Triskelion. Phil was her useless copilot. He sat behind her in silence, except for the sounds of him filling seven barf bags. Looking back, she always marveled that he didn’t pass out. He’d only ever had rudimentary training at supersonic speeds, and she put the plane through its paces._

_With every stunt she pulled, she convinced herself that she could do it. She could go back and continue her field work. Phil would be right there with her. He, above all others, knew who she was, what she was capable of. She could do it. She just needed to let go. Put Bahrain away._

_But when the plane touched down, she turned herself over to SHIELD security without a fight or even an explanation. The next day she filed for a transfer to administration. To this day she’s convinced that Phil is the only reason she didn’t get fired._

She couldn’t do it after all. And now Phil is gone. She doesn’t blame herself. She didn’t put him to the sword herself. But she could have taken it for him.

The rain falling on her face is the only indication of how much time she spends on the roof, staring at the sky without really seeing anything. At some point she goes to the edge and stands on it. Maybe security thought she was going to jump, because a few minutes later a few armed guards wrestle her down. But she doesn’t want to die. What she wants is Phil clutching fearfully at her, like he did that one time she took him for a spin in the ultralight, or swearing that he’ll never speak to her again after the stunt plane incident.

What she wants is that romantic notion of freedom back.

She needs to fly, because, to Melinda May, flying and Phil Coulson are synonymous. 


End file.
